


Painting

by NoMatterTheOceans



Series: Imadeyouapromise!universe [2]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-10-01 17:37:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20352781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoMatterTheOceans/pseuds/NoMatterTheOceans
Summary: A prompt sent by my pal Lilly on Tumblr that I never published here on AO3. Part of the "I made you a promise" story, Feyre and Rhysand spend the night painting the house.





	Painting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [imaginemotherofdragons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginemotherofdragons/gifts).

It was already mid-September, but the heat outside was still unbearable. Velaris had been stuck in a wave of warmth for the last month or so, and Feyre and Rhysand had foregone the use of his terrace to find sanctuary inside the house. Today was no different, except for the room they found themselves into. The living-room was flooded with heat from the window, and Feyre had decided Rhysand’s bedroom to be “too boring,” so they had set up camp in another room, a “more exciting one” as she had said. 

The room didn’t have a purpose, really. Cassian called it The Attic, because it was where they had stored the supplies from the renovations a few years back, but it was more of a spare bedroom or an office. They built a fort with two chairs and a few old white sheets, and settled on the cold tiles. Rhysand watched as Feyre chose a movie, a few beads of sweat sparkling on her forehead and bare arms.

“I love you,” he murmured, feeling overwhelmed with affection towards his girlfriend of almost a year. He bent down to kiss her on the shoulder, and she turned to him, smiling.

“I love you too babe, but if you kiss me again in this heat, I am going to smack you.” But her tone was playful, and there was a mischievous look in her eyes that told him more kisses were welcome, despite the warm weather. So he looped an arm around her back and pulled her closer. They didn’t watch much of the movie after that.

***

He woke up in the middle of the night, the room dark around him except for the faint glow of the moon entering through the window. The temperature was still too warm, and he enjoyed the chilliness of the floor against his skin for a minute, before realizing Feyre wasn’t beside him. He sat up and looked outside the makeshift fort, only to find her standing in a corner of the room, wearing nothing but his tee-shirt and her hair held up by… a paintbrush?

“Feyre?” He called softly, and when she turned, he realized she wasn’t just standing. Her hands and face were covered in stains, and he could see pots of paint scattered around her on the floor. She had a lost air on her face, almost sad. Nostalgic. He knew that look. He loved that look. It was the face she had when she was inspired and couldn’t stop herself from painting, drawing, doodling on any available surface. Her eyes seemed to focus on him, and she gave him a small smile.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you.”

“You didn’t.” He got up from the floor and grabbed his boxers before walking to her. “What are you up to?”

He saw her blush and she looked at the floor. “I couldn’t sleep, and I found these pots, and this afternoon you said you didn’t do anything with this room so I thought you wouldn’t mind if I… painted it a little.” She looked guilty, and he gently grabbed her chin to make her look at him.

“You were right, Darling, I don’t mind.” He looked behind her and saw that the entire lower half of the wall was covered in intricate drawings of a woman moving away from a village in the mountains, climbing until she reached the land of the Gods, then going down in forests and dangerous places to retrieve something. The half-finished part of the painting depicted what looked like a flock of winged children in mid flight, gathering around the woman and dancing in the starry sky. “You… You’re painting the legend about Emerie and the Gods.”

“I am. Well, I’m trying, anyway.” Then she turned to him, a broad grin on her face: “Do you want to help me?”

He laughed. “Feyre, I’m flattered, but you know how bad I am at painting, we learned that from the drawing tablet incident last year.”

She snorted, probably remembering the awful stick figures he’d drawn on her tablet one evening, the ones that had ended up on a file she was sending to New York for her work. “Okay well, maybe I won’t let you paint the details. How about you paint this wall in clear blue? I need a clean surface for the next legend.”

It sounded like a meaningless task just to keep him busy, but he didn’t want her to stop painting, and he was glad to do this with her, so he nodded and grabbed a pot.

***

He was already bored ten minutes later, so he turned away from the wall and settled for looking at his girlfriend, still wearing his tee-shirt, painting delicately one of Emerie’s wings. He contemplated her for a few minutes before an idea formed in his head, a silly idea that she would hate him for, but it was here now, and he wanted to do it. So he dipped his brush in the blue paint and, aiming slowly, he flicked the paint at her.

She gasped as the paint reached her and splashed all over her face.

“What the hell, Rhys?!”

But he wasn’t listening, He was rolling around on the floor and laughing at the look of indignation on her face. He saw her cross her arms, and tried to calm down.

“Oh Darling, I’d say I was sorry, but your face right now makes it all worth it.”

She sighed and turned away from him, so he got up, walked to her and encircled her in his arms.

“Come on, Feyre, I was only joking, I -” He was interrupted by a paintbrush collapsing with his face, and he took a step back. When he opened his eyes, he found Feyre looking at him, a small pot of red paint in her hand and a brush in the other.

“Oh, babe, you asked for it,” she said with a mischievous smile, and she plunged the brush in the paint to launch at him. In seconds, he was grabbing his own pot and retaliating, and in just under a minute, they were both covered in color, the floor around them stained, and the walls splattered with smaller rays of paint. But none of them was backing out of the fight, and Feyre seemed determined to win. He saw her let go of the paintbrush, only to plunge her entire hand inside the pot, and setting down the pot on the ground.

“Fey, don’t do that,” He said as he took a step back and she started to move towards him. “Feyre, Feyre don’t you…” He didn’t have time to add anything as she ran the last few steps to him and jumped on him, crashing her hand on his face and laughing. As a last resort, Rhys grabbed her and forced her into a hug, rubbing his cheek against her. She shrieked and made a feeble attempt to get away from him.

The last attack seemed to have calmed them down, they stopped laughing after a moment, and Rhys found himself looking at her again, and how beautiful she was, eyes sparkling with mischief, hair and skin covered in paint, standing half-naked in this room. This room that hadn’t been used in years, abandoned and forgotten, but that she had reawakened in just a few hours. This room now covered in paint and made alive by Feyre’s sheer will. Once again overwhelmed by his love for her, he opened his mouth and let the worlds spill out on themselves.

“Move in with me.”

Her smile faltered just a little bit, and she answered in a baffled voice. “What?”

“Move in with me. Come live here.” And because she still seemed confused, he added: “This room could be your study, you could paint or draw or just chill and… And I could help you paint it. I mean, better than I did tonight,” he added, and she laughed. “What I mean is I love you, and I want to go to sleep with you every night, and wake up next to you every morning. What do you think?”

She stayed silent for a moment longer, as if considering what to tell him, and then she talked, a large smile on her face.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes, I want to live with you too,” and he was about to kiss her when she added: “But I want the left side of the closet in the bedroom.”

He laughed and kissed her. “Deal.”


End file.
